The post-Fair recovery continues. In all honesty, it’s been a bit harder this year. By now I should be pretty much back to my version of normal. Instead, I’m still hanging out on my heating pad, scrambling pain signals to my brain with electrode patch thingys, and Netflixing. At least there’s popcorn (unbuttered and air-popped).
I’m also walking. Walking walking walking. One of the many great things about The Fair is that it gets me back into a daily routine of strolling several miles each day. Walking makes my back…and my head…happy. Walking is good.
I’ve been sort of nesting this past week, so I’m getting my steps in the rural hinterlands around Woodhaven. In addition to avoiding a car, this has also afforded me the chance to meet some new neighbors. This is awesome since we will all be retreating to our hibernacles soon.
Returning from today’s 2.7 mile jaunt, my fingers slightly purple from the fresh blackberry snacks along the way, I headed right to the couch. Partly because my back commanded as much, partly because urgent research was required.
It took about 10 minutes of Googling and carefully studying rather graphic images before it dawned on me that my life is so not San Francisco Suburbs anymore. Because I’m here to tell you, never in my life before Woodhaven did I ever study photos of animal poop…especially with such intensity and excitement.
I’m quite familiar with rabbit and deer droppings. They are scattered all around Woodhaven. And I know that coyote poop looks a lot like what might be provided by a dog. But my recent walks have been dotted with some new…curiosities.
Cougars (a mom and her cubs) have been reported in the area for the past several weeks. A neighbor posted a sign suggesting we play some tunes since “cougars are very sensitive to music…” Soooo extraordinarily tempted to play some “Pink Houses” and “Hurts So Good.”
|It's honestly not clear to me if we're talking about mountain|
lions or middle aged women trying to lure in young hunks
Just a few days ago, Rob and I had to brake on our way down the hill to let a bobcat bebop across the street. And bears are not unheard of in these parts, although I haven’t heard of any in the immediate area this year. So far.
My extensive (~20 minutes) research tonight on critter scat implored me to search for tell-tale signs including tubular ropes, blunt ends, and items that are segmented, and twisted. Poop adjectives, or bands from the ‘80s? Or both?
Either which way, my careful yet appropriately distant inspection suggests we’ve definitely been visited by coyotes. Maybe a cougar. Definitely not a bobcat. And maaaaybeee a Boo-Boo sized bear (the scat is a bit scant; we’ve got quality but not quantity to call it). All of which is rather compelling information.
However, perhaps the most fascinating and thought-provoking finding this evening is the revelation that for only $21.50 (plus tax and shipping and in stock now!), I can purchase my very own life-sized replica of "Adult Black Bear" poop. The gift giving ideas are piling up!!
If only Rob liked blackberries and raspberries. The “Grey Fox with Berries” sample is a bargain at just $11.50.